The man who stood in my way was large, corpulent to put it politely. His body eclipsed the path but I knew I had to get past him. His girth was daunting; I could imagine others like me broken against him like sea foam.
Still, I had to get past him.
I could not go back.
I could not stay where I was.
The only way was through.
I charged, throwing myself at his bulk. My lowered shoulder found someplace soft on him just below his ribs and I pushed, pistoning my legs furiously until I felt him move, until I drove him back. When I stopped, I was a little further down the path, but not much more. The man looked up at me wheezing, his hands on his knees.
“Do you yield?” He asked without a hint of irony. I returned his gaze and smiled.
“Yield? I just got here.”